In Exile
by khaleesiofmischief
Summary: A queen banished by her own son, a hated knight lacking a sword hand, a freakish big wench, a cold father, a demon monkey. All of them are in their own exile. A different take on ASOS 2 and AFFC.
1. CERSEI

**So, this is a crazy, stupid idea I got when I was on holidays. Big thanks to firelordzuko for supporting me and telling me that this can actually work! I'm waiting some J/C from you, my Rhaegar…**

CERSEI

"No one tells me what to do", Joffrey said, clearly in rage.

"My son, I didn't—"

"Stop calling me your son!" Joffrey cut his golden-haired mother off. "I am your king, not your son!"

Everyone was watching. Maester Pycelle was oft coughing behind his palm and his hands were trembling, but he didn't do anything. Varys was watching the scene before his eyes speechless, but still he did not act. Tyrion seemed to be at a loss, almost as if he felt sorry for his older sister, but he did not do anything.

"The king is tired", Tywin Lannister said at some moment and for a heartbeat Cersei believed that she had been saved.

"The king is NOT tired! No one commands me!" Joffrey yelled arrogantly, his anger pulsating in the room where the small council was.

Cersei did not know what to do. She could not calm her son. No one could. Why could he not be more like Jaime? Jaime was easier to handle at least. _Where are you, Jaime?_ she suddenly wondered. Would the gods ever bring him back to her? The gods were not supposed to have mercy, her father had taught her that a long time ago. Right at that moment, though, she prayed with all her might that her father was wrong.

She reached out to touch her first precious gem that Jaime had given her over a decade ago. He did not look like Jaime the way that Cersei wanted him to, but he was a Lannister through and through. He did seem to have the mad mind of a Targaryen, however.

Joffrey pulled back, almost hitting Cersei. He looked at her with loathing and disgust. His own mother. "You are not allowed to touch the king", he whispered threateningly.

You are my son. I conceived you with Jaime. I gave birth to you, and Jaime was right there with me. I didn't let him hold you because you looked so much like him. I held you all the time. I fed you and kissed you. I recited bed time stories to you. I am your mother, I can touch you whenever I want!

"Forgive me, my king", she said instead. "I should not have acted on such impulse, but maybe you should calm down…"

"CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN?! HOW DARE YOU GIVE COMMANDS TO ME?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

"She is the Queen. Queen Regent perhaps, but Queen nonetheless. And she is your mother as well."

Joffrey's reaction had surprised her but not as much as this. The person who had spoken was none other than her little brother, the dwarf, the Imp, the demon monkey, the valonqar. Tyrion. He had just stood up for her. To the king, who seemed to be almost as mad as Aerys Targaryen.

Joffrey looked at his uncle. His rage had not subsided, and he seemed to be more than ready to let everyone in the chamber have a taste of it. Cersei could not believe that her once lovely son could turn into this…monster. She had to face it, she had to admit it. Her son had committed many monstrosities. He acted on his own, not asking advice, not informing anyone. House Lannister was even more hated than before because of the boy king.

"My son, please…" Cersei began to whisper, hoping that somehow the fire burning his son might ease and cool down.

Joffrey cleared his throat and looked around him, at every single member of the small council. Then, he looked at no where in particular, almost as if he had exited the room mentally and had travelled somewhere else, where he could be alone, lost in the unknown thoughts inside his golden head.

"I, Joffrey of House Baratheon, the First of My Name, King of the Andals and Protector of the Realm, banish Cersei of House Lannister from King's Landing."

Cersei gasped. The world was spinning all around her. She wished a hole could just form on the floor and swallow her to the depths of this world. Her own son hated her and wanted to punish her with exile. Cersei did not even remember what had frustrated Joffrey so. All she knew was that apparently it had terrible consequences for her.

"Your Grace, is this really wise? This is the Queen Regent", Varys said carefully.

"I am the King, and the king does as he likes", Joffrey replied, almost shrieking.

Cersei looked at her father for support, for help, but none came. The great, proud lion was sitting in his chair, watching his grandson, but he never said a word. He did not look at Cersei either. Her father had said that she and Tyrion had disgraced their House, but Cersei had never expected that her father would not save his own seed. Tywin Lannister could not possibly be afraid of Joffrey; king he was, but he was also a boy. And he was Tywin Lannister. Everyone feared him, not the king.

Joffrey looked at his grandfather, meeting his famous icy gaze. He seemed to calm down. His shoulders relaxed, he was no longer fuming and raving. Cersei felt relieved. That was her father; he did not need words, his eyes could break and twist everyone. And of course he wanted to save his daughter.

Joffrey turned around and stared at Cersei. Coldly he announced, "You are banished, and anyone who tries to convince me otherwise shall have his head on a spike."

**So, this is it! I don't really know what to make of it…This is just the beginning, though, you can be sure of that! Prepare yourself for a lot of Jaime/Cersei and some Jaime/Brienne friendship and perhaps one-sided love. There will be a lot of emotions exploration, angst, and maybe smut. I don't know yet. I will need some feedback.**

**So, you know what to do! Leave a review, they are very much appreciated! **


	2. JAIME

**I thought that this story was not worth my time, but the people who reviewed, added it to their favourite stories and are now following it changed my mind! Thank you all!**

**I want to tell you in advance that the next chapter will not be up so soon as this one. I'm leaving on holidays, so I won't have time for my story. However, I promise that when I'm back, I'll be dedicated to my story. Feel free to read other of my stories. If you're looking for a really good J/C story, I strongly recommend "Emerald & Gold" by Det. Jim Bradshaw.**

JAIME

Jaime spent his waking hours thinking of Cersei. He was getting closer and closer to her, to the only woman that he had ever desired and loved. He had been away from her for so long, and although he wanted nothing as much as to be with her once again, there were times that he doubted and wondered. _Will she still want me now? How will I look like to her now? I am no longer her reflection; she is still beautiful, no doubt, but I am…broken, damaged, aged. _

Brienne did not speak to him that much anymore, not after he had saved her from that bear. He guessed he had something to do with him saying, "I dreamed of you." Well, he had indeed. He had dreamed of his ancestors as well, it had not meant anything.

Not that he cared really. He did not mind silence. It gave him more time to think, to think of Cersei and Tyrion, even Joffrey. He was his son after all, although he had never felt like it. Joffrey was his seed in all truth, not his son. Cersei had never allowed him to treat the boy like a son. People would grow suspicious, she would always tell him. Now everyone knew about his relationship with his sister. They did not understand it, but they knew. However, now it was too late. The boy could never be his son.

He looked at his stump. Vargo Hoat gave the impression of a fool, but he was no such thing. He could have cut off Jaime's left hand or even a foot for that matter. But no, he chose his right hand, his sword hand. Jaime had been nothing but a sword hand in his whole life, it seemed. He had used it for his House, for Tywin, for Cersei, for Tyrion. And now it was gone.

He looked at the beast of a woman riding behind him. She still had her right hand. She could fight still. Jaime could not. He had no idea what he could do anymore. He had always been good at fighting, he did not seem to be good at anything else. How could he be a Kingsguard without his sword hand? How could he protect the people he loved without his sword hand?

His thoughts wandered back to Cersei on their own accord. Would she want him now? Would she let him touch her, rest his disgusting stump of a hand on her perfect, porcelain skin? Or would she tell him no? Would she send him away from her, out of her bed? Would she stop talking to him altogether?

"You seem troubled, ser", he heard a voice near him. He turned around and saw Qyburn.

"I am thinking", he said. "Yes, I do that too."

Qyburn chuckled. If he knew what Jaime was thinking about, he probably would not be so cheerful. "I never thought otherwise", he said. "I just found it a little odd that you are troubled now. You are almost home. And you saved Brienne of Tarth."

Had Brienne talked to Qyburn? Had that rescuing meant something? "Yes, I suppose I'm not that much of a villain anymore…Don't tell anyone!"

Qyburn had a smile on his face that did not seem willing to go away. It actually bothered Jaime, although he did not really know why. He only wanted some peace and quiet, silence and isolation. He wanted to be with no one but Cersei.

"You are thinking of your sister, are you not?" the master with no chain asked. "Her son is getting married, and you, the boy's…nephew and the Commander of the Kingsguard, are not yet there."

Jaime did not like the way that his healer had said the word "nephew". Many people—perhaps most people—believed that he and Cersei had committed—what a cruel word for it—incest and all of Cersei's children had been given to her by Jaime, but it was really rare when someone actually hinted at it in front of Jaime. Brienne had spoken of it freely, the stupid wench believing that he was actually violating his sister. And now Qyburn's turn had come.

"You are right", Jaime said as if he had not noticed a thing. "I would like to see my family, but I am afraid I will not make it in time for my king's wedding."

Qyburn looked at him and nodded. Then he rode on, leaving Jaime alone. Had he expected Jaime to just say, "Yes, I want to see my sister again, to hold her and kiss her and fuck her; I want to see my son get married with a beautiful young woman"?

He kept thinking of his family. Of his cold father, of his lovely sister, of his little brother, of his children. Most of the members of his family did not even know how he felt about them. If he made it back to King's Landing, if he saw them again, he would make sure that they would know. And he would make Cersei his wife.

All of a sudden, all the riders stopped to a halt. Jaime rode closer in order to see what was going on. There was a figure walking. A woman most likely, judging from her long hair. Yes, definitely a woman: she was wearing a gown.

Jaime looked at her closely as she stopped walking; she had noticed them. She was tall and…No, it could not be. Jaime thought that he was dreaming again, that thinking of her made her appear in front of him even when he was awake. But then he heard someone whisper, "The queen…" and he knew.

It was Cersei.

**Reviews are love! x **


	3. CERSEI II

**Big thanks to every single person who has supported this story and me! I can't believe that this story is actually added in a community! When I first came up with this idea, I thought that it was stupid, ridiculous, not worth writing. Apparently you disagree, and I am so very glad! I hope I won't disappoint you!**

**By the way, LadyRainicorn, thanks a lot for being so dedicated to my story and for being so kind. I had the most amazing time during my holidays, thank you!**

CERSEI

When she saw all those men, she did not know what to make of it. Had her son sent them there so that they would bring her safely back to King's Landing? Or were they enemies of the crown, which only meant that they were her enemies as well?

Someone approached her on foot. She looked at him. He looked older than her. He was bearded and wore filthy rags. And yet…

"Jaime?" she whispered.

When he stopped in front of her, she had no doubt that it was him. He looked as if he had aged a lot all the time that they had been apart. He was thinner and seemed a little weak. She didn't like his beard; it didn't allow his handsome face to show. But it was indeed him, her Jaime, there was no doubt about that.

She smiled and tried not to cry. He pulled her in his protective arms, and she felt safe in his embrace – she always did. She didn't care about all those men on their horses. They were watching a scene of affection between a brother and a sister, nothing more.

Jaime slowly broke the embrace. "What are you doing here?" he asked her.

It was hard to reply to that. The truth was wounding her pride. "Well…Joffrey banished me from the capital", she finally admitted.

She noticed that certain men tried to hide their grins and their chuckled behind their palms. An angry Jaime turned around and looked at them. All of them stopped and looked serious. _Has he inherited father's icy gaze?_ she wondered.

When Jaime turned around to her again, however, she did not fail to notice that the anger was melting off his face. Sadness replaced it. _What has happened now?_ she wondered.

She whispered his name, and he raised his right arm. Where there used to be a hand, she now saw a stump. There were bandages covering it, but there was no doubt: Jaime's right hand was not in its place.

"I can't protect you anymore", he said and Cersei distinctly heard self-loathing in his voice.

She didn't know what to say or what to do. She wanted to ask him what had happened, how he had lost his hand, but all those men were listening. They most likely already knew what had happened, but still Jaime would feel humiliated if he told her the story in front of them.

Jaime had never come to her like that before, vulnerable and almost unrecognizable. She used to believe that he would always be there for her, to protect her, to love her, but now he looked almost like a stranger. He was now a crippled, broken, wrong reflection of herself. She wanted to save him, but she had never been able to even save herself.

She put her hand on his arm and lowered it. She didn't want to look at that ugly stump anymore. _Jaime's right hand is cut off; Tyrion's nose is almost entirely cut off; what cruel fate awaits me?_ she thought.

"I am glad that you are safe, brother", she said. "Are you heading to King's Landing?"

"We were", Jaime answered. "Now we cannot go."

"Ser Jaime—" a man started.

"My sister", Jaime cut him off without even glancing at him, "is banished from the capital. Am I supposed to leave her all by herself? Am I supposed to leave her to some of you? I do not think so."

"We have to take you to your father, Lord Tywin", the man insisted. "He has to see that you are alive and well."

Cersei was glad and proud that her twin brother still stood up for her and wanted to be there for her. She wanted to spend more time with him, but if Tywin Lannister did not soon make sure that his son was alive, he might start a war that they could not afford. And with the king getting madder and madder as time went by, things would be harder. Why would the Tyrells support them again? Why would anyone support them?

"He is right, Jaime", she told him. "You have to go to father before he fights and kills everyone, believing that you are dead." Apart from changing Jaime's mind, Cersei knew that she had to remind everyone that House Lannister was still a powerful House to be feared.

"All right", Jaime gave in. "But tonight we will camp here."

No one disagreed, and Cersei was glad to see that her brother still had power and was respected despite the loss of his sword hand. She still wondered how this had happened, but she was not entirely sure that she wanted ask that question. For now, she could pretend that it had not happened. It would be hard, she knew it, but she could not deal with that problem at that moment as well. She had to think about what she would do away from King's Landing.

_Am I still the Queen?_ she wondered. _I bore Robert's cruelty, Jaime's jealousy, Stark's discoveries, everyone's accusations. I stood my ground, I remained the Queen. And now I am no longer the Queen because my son has lost his mind?_ It was ironic. It was a bitter joke from the gods. _The gods have no mercy, that's why they're gods._

"I need a word with my sister", Jaime announced. "Don't follow us. I'll be a good boy, I won't run; I promise."

He took Cersei's arm and led her away from all those men, someplace where they could have that word absolutely in private. Cersei thought that she caught a glimpse of a woman among the men, but she decided that she was tired that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Besides, that person looked too big to be a woman.

They stood among tall trees. A soft breeze made the leaves on the ground move and fly. It was so romantic, and although Cersei had never been like that in her life, she thought that this was the perfect scenery for her reunion with her brother and lover.

She could see that he wanted her. And she would be a damn liar if she said that she did not want him. He had been away from her for far too long. _Lancel tried_, she remembered, _but he could never be Jaime. No one could ever be Jaime._

"I've missed you", she admitted. "I've missed you so much, Jaime. I knew that you weren't dead, I would have felt it; but I was afraid that I would never see you again."

He put his hand on her waist. "I know", he said. "But I would never die without you. I love you."

She leaned in to him, and he gave a light kiss to her soft lips. She trembled as if that was their first kiss. She didn't even remember it anymore. When had it happened? How? She only knew that it had been innocent as first. _Until it wasn't_, she thought.

She wanted more. Both of them wanted more. He kissed her hungrily, and she responded with equal fervor. His hand was everywhere, moving all over her body. He pinned her to a tree, having her all for himself so that he could devour her. His passion was a consuming fire, burning her, until she almost begged for more.

His mouth attacked her pulse point, while his left hand found her right breast. He sucked at the skin of her neck and bit at it, while his hand weighed and cupped and massaged her breast. The pleasure was almost unbearable, and Cersei could not prevent the moans form coming out of her mouth.

"I want you inside me", she whispered in his ear. "Now."

Jaime obeyed immediately. She released his hard cock from his breeches as he lifted her gown up to her waist. Holding it in his fist, he penetrated her. Her legs were around his waist, giving him better access inside her.

He thrust deeply inside her as if he wanted to break her. Cersei knew that he would never do anything to hurt her, so she joined the rhythm that he was setting. She met him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into his shoulders. He groaned, and that rich, primitive sound made her gasp.

Her walls clenched around him, and she knew that she was close. One more thrust would be a push off the cliff, a push over the edge…And she came, gasping and howling and holding on to him as thought for dear life. Jaime followed her, groaning as he released himself inside her.

As she came down from the clouds where her head was swimming, she unwrapped her legs from around his waist and stood on her feet. She straightened her gown as Jaime laced his breeches.

"I've missed you", he whispered and it sounded as if he were praying.

**Okay, people, we made it! THREE pages of Jaime/Cersei stories! That's some progress! If anyone has any J/C ideas, post them! We need more J/C stories!**

**Now, back to this chapter. Yes, I wrote some smut, because Jaime and Cersei had sex in the book when they reunited (they better fuck on that altar in the show when Joffrey dies, or I shall unleash my wrath! Translation: I'll be sad and disappointed but still so happy that Game Of Thrones is real…). I hope you liked this chapter! If you did, why don't you leave a review? I love reviews!**


	4. TYWIN

**I thought that we should see what happens in King's Landing. So I took a risk: I wrote a Tywin chapter. Don't be too harsh!**

Tywin Lannister sipped at his wine. It was red, like the one of the two colours of his House, and it tasted sour, like his daughter's banishment by the order of his grandson. He just sat in his chamber, doing nothing apart from drinking his wine as if time had stopped. His head was filled with thoughts wandering around his troubled brain like flies around a rotting corpse.

Every member of the small council was respectful towards the king and did not once refer to Cersei Lannister. The king seemed troubled oft times, as if he regretted what he had done. He did not speak those words, but Tywin knew that the boy could not be troubled by anything else. The boy didn't seem to think, so being troubled was very rare.

"Are you thinking of something, Your Grace?" Tywin had asked him once.

The boy had looked at him uncertainly, more troubled than ever. "No", he had said.

Tywin had expected a falsely witty reply like, _The king always thinks of something_. He had nodded and asked, "Do you, by any chance, want counsel on some matter, Your Grace?"

This time the boy had looked almost enraged. He had seemed to be someone else, as if an unknown twin had replaced him in the blink of an eye. "No", he had snapped.

Tywin Lannister had no idea where his daughter might be. The great master of whispers had no news. No one had sent a raven asking for this and that in exchange for Cersei Lannister. It seemed that she was lost, for now at least.

And she was not the only one. Jaime was missing as well. He had been away for far too long. They had no information concerning his whereabouts whatsoever.

It seemed that the family was falling in pieces. Two of his children were lost somewhere in the vast world. He had a legacy to pass on but no one to pass it on to. Only Tyrion was still there, but he was a lustful, vile dwarf. The Imp. The demon monkey. He had come from Tywin's loins, yet he was a bastard who had killed his own mother in order to live.

Tywin had never been proud of Tyrion, who bore the proud lion of Lannister whereas he did not deserve it, but now it seemed that he had no one to be proud of. The disgusting lie about his son and his daughter had spread everywhere, whispered in every street, valley, mountain and sea of Westeros. And perhaps even people beyond Westeros had heard of it. He wanted to believe that it was naught more than a terrible lie of Stannis Baratheon so that he would take the throne, but he often found himself in moments of doubt.

House Lannister, the greatest and most powerful House, was now disgraced thusly by three siblings who cared not about their family but about their own whims. Tywin had done his best all those years in order to preserve the glory and grandeur of the House, but he could not do it anymore. He knew that he would not be there forever, fixing the problems caused by his children. He would keep doing his best until his last breath escaped from his cracked lips, but after that…He almost shuddered at the thought of what House Lannister would become.

And that, unfortunately, was not all.

A few hours after, Olenna Tyrell wished to speak with him. The Queen of Thorns she was, although no one dared call her that if she was around. But then again, no one called Jaime Lannister "Kingslayer" in his face unless they had grown tired of the place their head was, but still he was branded with this name forever.

"What may I do for you, Lady Olenna?" Tywin asked politely but coldly.

"I am here to discuss the royal wedding with you" she replied.

"Of course. Tell me."

"I don't see it happening."

Tywin stared at her, keeping his face an unreadable mask of no emotion. "And why would that be?" he asked, a little more coldly than before.

The Queen of Thorns waved her hand as if she was trying to get rid of a fly. She then sighed. "Your daughter", said she, "has been banished by the king, her own son. It seems to me that queens fall easily here, so who's to say the same thing won't happen to Margaery?"

Tywin had already expected that Cersei's banishment would trouble the Tyrell family. Therefore, he was not surprised by Lady Olenna's words. "Have you found another husband for Lady Margaery then?" he asked. "Someone better than the king?"

"Renly was a king too", she reminded him. "Margaery's marriage to him offered nothing to her."

"Renly was _a_ king", said he. "Joffrey is _the_ king. Margaery will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. So, it seems to me that her marriage to Joffrey does have something to offer her."

A small, polite smile crept on Lady Olenna's wrinkled face. "You are right", she said. "So I shall return to what I said before. If Cersei Lannister, queen for so many years, had been sent in exile like that, who can guarantee that your grandson will not do the same to my granddaughter?"

He studied her. The woman was old, but her brain had most definitely not slowed due to age. She was fun to talk to, he had to admit. Conversations with her always had you on edge, made you think and rack your brain in order to contradict her and prove that you were smarter than her. Furthermore, she had interesting opinions on all matters and her own, more interesting and unique way to express them.

"The king seems to be fascinated by your granddaughter", Tywin said. "I highly doubt that he will be able to part from her. However, I understand your fears. You have no reason to feel like that. King Joffrey had a moment of weakness, which he regrets deeply. He shall not make any choices so grave without hearing what the small council has to say."

Of course he could not guarantee that the boy would not have another fit in the future. But he could guarantee that he would prevent the boy from making any rash decisions that would cost to the realm one way or another. If the boy childishly threatened to have him executed, as the Hand of the King he would advise him against it. He no longer cared whether the king would be humiliated; he had to learn to show some discipline.

Lady Olenna smiled; it was a cryptic smile as well as a pleasant one. "I am glad to know that our dear Margaery has impressed the king thusly", she said. "I am also glad to know that the small council will do what it is supposed to do." She paused just to see Tywin's reaction, but he did nothing but nod. "Margaery will become Joffrey's loving wife."

"Good", was all that Lord Tywin said.

"Besides", Lady Olenna carried on, the smile carved on her wrinkled face, "if anything happens to Margaery, the Tyrells will leave. And with us will come all our men and provisions."

Tywin looked at her; she was obviously enjoying this. If the Tyrells left with all the aid they had offered to the king, House Lannister would stand alone. Stannis Baratheon would have taken the throne for himself if the Lannisters and the Tyrells had not forged an alliance. Even though House Lannister was the most powerful House in all of the Seven Kingdoms, they needed the Tyrells. It was ironic, was it not? The lion needed the rose.

"Well", Olenna Tyrell said, "now that this is settled, I think it's time for me to take my leave. Unless you have something to discuss with me."

"No", Tywin Lannister said coldly and stood up.

"Oh, don't", she said, waving her hand. "I can find my own way out."

Tywin Lannister met with Varys after. He was the master of whispers after all; he was supposed to know everything, to have spies everywhere. And yet, Varys had delivered no information, no "whispers" about the Lannister twins.

"How are you, my lord?" the eunuch asked.

"Fine", Tywin replied coldly. He had not wished to see the eunuch for idle talk of no meaning at all. He wanted to know about his son and his daughter. The former captured long ago and now gone, the latter sent in exile by her own son. This was what had happened to House Lannister.

"I suppose that is not what you wish to talk about", Varys said with his friendly tone and his innocent-looking face.

"No."

"I am afraid, my lord, that my little birds know nothing concerning your children. They have sung no songs to me about two lions; neither about the one, nor about the other."

"So you are telling me that you have failed to do the one thing that you do."

Varys looked offended, with a childish grace. "My lord, I apologise, but your children are hard to find", he said. "But do not lose hope. Your son is a gallant knight, a warrior; he will survive. And your daughter is very clever."

_I hoped that my son would be a gallant knight. Now everyone hates him because he killed a king that he had sworn to defend and most likely beds his own sister_, Tywin thought. _And if my daughter was clever, she would be able to control that boy of hers._

"If you learn anything from your spies, you will come straight to me and tell me."

"Of course, my lord. Do not worry about this."

_I do not worry, you fool._ He merely nodded. For now, at least, his children had to take their fate into their own hands.

**So, I have to say that this chapter was the hardest thing I've ever had to write. I love writing Jaime, it comes very easily to me. Writing Cersei is not as easy as writing Jaime, but I still like it very much. But Tywin is NOT easy. And if you throw a Tywin/Olenna scene in the chapter, you only make things worse. I hope you won't hate me for this chapter.**

**More Jaime/Cersei action in the next chapter. I promise. I can't not write about my OTP for too long.**

**Reviews are love! x **


	5. JAIME II

Big thanks to my lovely reviewers: **firelordzuko**, **Veridissima**, **BookWorm4479**, **rikary**, and **juju0268**. I hope that whoever reads this new chapter will like it and perhaps take some time to review. Also, feel free to check my modern AU Jaime/Cersei story, _Dominance and Love_.

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JAIME

The nightmares were gone, but so was Cersei, or so it seemed. Jaime felt as if there was an invisible wall between them. Cersei had built a fortress around her; she would talk to Jaime, but she would never let him in. And this time it was not an innocent game of come-into-my-castle. This was reality. Their relationship had changed - if not fallen to tiny pieces that could never be put back together - and Jaime knew the reason why.

It was his hand - or, to be exact, the lack of it. He had always been Cersei's protector, the Warrior to her Maiden. Now he was more like the Crone, or perhaps the Stranger. He could protect no one. Cersei had been sent in exile, and although they were riding to King's Landing as they were supposed to, Jaime had no idea what to do with the beautiful woman behind him with her hands loosely on his waist merely so that she would not fall off the horse.

It seemed that that day the Gods chose to be kind and merciful. As they were riding, they passed a river, where a young woman was bathing. She had left her poor clothes on shore. Jaime instantly remembered that time in the inn off Eel Alley; Cersei had dressed in a servant's garb in order to get past Father's guards without being noticed and go to him. The memory aroused him, but he fought it. Damn, he really needed Cersei.

He stopped the horse. "What are you doing?" Cersei and Steelshanks Walton asked him at the same time.

"Cersei, get off, I have a plan", he said to her.

She didn't move at first. He looked at her hard, and in the end she did what was asked of her and dismounted. Jaime followed suit and approached the shore. The woman bathing saw him but did not seem afraid in the least.

"Hello, sir", she said in an attempt to be seductive. She failed miserably. "A knight are ya now? Then I should be callin' ya ser. What can I do for ya, ser?"

"I want your clothes", he said.

She laughed at him, but Jaime did not care. "And why would ya want me clothes?"

"That's none of your business", he said dangerously and saw her flinch and dive a little more in the water as if that would save her. "I will leave you some money. If you say anything to anyone, you will die. Do you understand?"

She nodded but didn't utter a word. She was trembling, and Jaime was sure that it had nothing to do with the water. _Would you be proud of me, Father?_ he wondered. _No, the lack of my sword hand would not allow you to swell with pride, I suppose._

He paid his debts like a true Lannister and left a few coins for the woman. He then took her clothes and walked to Cersei, who was watching him disbelieving, with one eyebrow raised, but also a little impressed. That was how it looked to Jaime at least.

"What did you just do?" Cersei asked him. "If you were paying her court, then you failed miserably, brother."

Jaime grinned. The good old Cersei was back. "Do you remember when you put on a disguise?" he asked softly so that no one else but her would hear. "You would dress as a servant or a tavern wench and come to me. No one ever realised that it was you."

Realisation dawned on his twin sister and she grinned devilishly at him. He could see that the memory had some sort of effect on her as well. "That was clever of you", she admitted.

"Yes, well, it happens."

Walton approached him on foot. "Ser, what is going on?" he asked.

"I found a way to get my sister to King's Landing", he replied. "She will be disguised as a wench. No one will know it was her. Is there an inn or something nearby? I could use some ale."

Walton nodded. He seemed a bit uncertain, but he never spoke of it. He was a good man. Jaime didn't feel like arguing about his plan. It was the only thing he could think of, and now that he had had that idea, he wanted to return to the capital as quickly as possible. He was tired of riding with those men and Qyburn and Brienne. He wanted to be back in his chamber, to sleep in his comfortable bed, perhaps share it with Cersei - she would be pretending to be a wench, so what would be the problem with that? He could not hold himself anymore. Nothing had happened between them after that time they met. He needed more. Always.

He gave the clothes to his sister and told her to dress. She moved away, searching for some privacy among the trees. Jaime was watching all the men; if anyone made a move to get close to his sister and admire the view, he would kill him, cripple or not.

"Your sister is really beautiful, Ser Jaime", Brienne said. He hadn't even seen her approach, so engrossed he was in Cersei.

"Yes, she is", he replied. _What else could you say, wench? Look at her and look at yourself_. Those were cruel thoughts he knew, but if it hadn't been for Brienne, he wouldn't have lost his hand. _Of course, I might have died long ago without her, if someone else had been in her place._

"An ingenius plan, the disguise", she said. "How did you come up with it?"

He would love to tell her the truth just in order to see her reaction. Instead, he shrugged and said, "I don't know really. it just came to me. Perhaps the Crone chose to shine some wisdom upon me for once."

If Jaime hadn't come up with that plan, he would not have recognised Cersei. Not at first, at least. She looked like a tavern wench, in a heavy roughspun cloak, badly dyed in mottled brown and fraying at the hem. Her lovely face was hiding behind the shadows of a hood. She looked nothing like a queen now.

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They found the inn soon enough. Everyone got ale, even Cersei. She looked pleased now, almost happy. Jaime knew that she had begun to find faith in him once again. He had found a way to get her back to King's landing, and that was some sort of protection. In a way he was her Warrior once again.

As the men that rode with Jaime talked about anything and nothing, Cersei oft placed her delicate hand on his thigh. No one saw that under the table, and Jaime did his best so as not to give them a sign that something was happening. He had been away from Cersei for so long that even a few moments of her hand on his thigh could make him hard. Luckily Cersei did not use her hand to do anything more, something wicked that would drive him crazy.

Surprisingly there were many people in the inn, talking passionately. Jaime knew that this could only mean one thing: something great had happened.

He soon found out.

"The Imp opened his throat with a dagger", a costermonger declared. "He drank his blood from a big gold chalice."

"It was poison did the deed", the innkeep insisted. "The boy's face turned black as plum."

"May the father judge him justly", a septon murmured. If the Father did judge him justly, Joffrey would suffer after his death.

"The dwarf's wife did the murder with him", swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws."

Jaime sat silent through it all, letting the words wash over him, a horn of ale forgotten in his one good hand. No one in the inn recognised him, so they spoke of Joffrey's death freely, not knowing that they were not telling the bearded, one-handed man of the death of the boy king; they were telling him of the death of his son.

And yet, Jaime felt no pain. He knew that fathers lost their minds from grief when they lost a son, but he did not feel that way. He was shocked. So many were claiming the Iron Throne that Jaime thought that Joffrey would die after the sacking of the city, perhaps not even then. Perhaps Cersei would send him away with knights in order to protect him. He had never expected that Joffrey would be murdered during his wedding feast.

The shock was double, for people insisted that Tyrion had done it, alone or with the help of Sansa Stark. But why would Tyrion do something like that? He knew that Jaime was the boy's father. He knew that Jaime would love to have even more children with Cersei. Why would he murder the boy? How could he? Kinslaying was a far greater sin than kingslaying.

Jaime wanted to blame the girl. Joffrey had made her suffer although she loved him, and he had rejected her as if she meant nothing. Maybe she was jealous. Maybe she wanted revenge. She was a Stark after all, and they were all wolves. However, from what Jaime remembered of her during his stay in Winterfell - it felt like centuried ago, so many things had happened and changed since then - she was more a Tully than a Stark, an innocent young girl with songs in her head.

He looked for Cersei but noticed that she was not around. He left the ale, he left the inn with the dark news and went outside. He found Cersei shaking, her arms wrapped around her. He felt a knife plunge into his heart as he saw her like this. He didn't feel as a father who had just lost his firstborn son was supposed to feel, but Cersei loved the boy very much. It had always seemed to Jaime that she was treating him a little different from the other two, Myrcella and Tommen, probably because he was the first treasure that Jaime had given to her. A treasure that she never permitted him to love.

"Cersei", he whispered her name gently as if it were a prayer. And, actually, it was. Instead of praying to the Seven, Jaime had oft whispered her name at night, perhaps foolishly hoping that she might feel his presence from afar.

She turned around and set her teary eyes on him. He approached her slowly, giving her the opportunity to tell him to leave her if what she wanted was to be alone. Even now, in her weak hour, in her moment of mourning, Cersei was a proud lioness and Jaime had to go to her. She never said a word. She didn't move at all. She looked like a statue. The only thing on her that indicated that she was a living person were her tears, the hot tears that rolled on her cold cheeks. She was like a weeping statue.

He wrapped his strong arms around her and stroked her head - the hood was not giving him the chance to feel her curls - as she surrendered in his embrace and started crying. Cersei had never wanted anyone to see her like this, and she only cried when she was alone with her twin. He was sad when she cried, but it was also proof that Cersei was still human, Cersei could still feel. It broke Jaime's heart to see her like this, and unfortunately there was nothing that he could do. He could only hold her and wait until she was done crying her heart out.

"He...he killed him, Jaime", she said between sobs, and Jaime knew knew just whom she meant. Their little brother. The Imp. The demon monkey. "My boy - he killed...my boy. I want his head."

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A/N: The part where people tell Jaime how Joffrey died was copied from "A Storm of Swords".

I decided to end this story here, because otherwise it would turn into a rewriting of "A Storm of Swords" and "A Feast For Crows" - and that would be a blasphemy. I hope you enjoyed the journey. I can't promise to write more Jaime/Cersei soon, but this is definitely not the end.


	6. TYRION

I know, I know; I said that the story is complete. Well, it isn't. I guess that makes me an oathbreaker... :P

Big shout out to **TheVillianStratigest** for convincing me to continue and making me see that the story can go differently from the books.

I've actually put a distance between me and ASOIAF fanfiction because I am addicted to NBC's Hannibal. I hope that this chapter will not disappoint. It's a bit short, but I had actually given up on this story. Plus, I've never written Tyrion before. It should be fun! Enjoy!

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TYRION

When Mace Tyrell pointed at him and started yelling, Tyrion thought that the Lord of Highgarden was merely throwing a cruel jape on him. Surely he could not mean his accusations.

But he did, and now Tyrion was in a cell waiting for justice to be served.

He did not know who had killed Joffrey. He knew that _he_ hadn't done it. Could it have been Sansa? The poor girl had every good reason to want the king dead. She had suffered many times because of him, even if not by his hand.

_She is my wife_, he thought. _One flesh, one body, one soul. I have to protect her. Besides, I have no proof of her guilt._

Maybe the murderer meant to poison Margaery and didn't care if Joffrey got poisoned as well. Even that idea made him think of Sansa. He had seen how the poor girl was looking at Margaery during the feast, as if she wished they could swap places. He did not blame her for not wanting to be married to him; but Joffrey? The boy was a worse monster than Tyrion. But he was good-looking. Sansa could not even look at Tyrion.

His thoughts were interrupted by the visit of a septon. Tyrion looked at the man and soon realised that he was none other than a spider on the wall of his dark cell.

"My lord Tyrion."

"Lord Varys, what a surprise." He chose to not use an adjective concerning the surprise. Whether it was a pleasant or an unpleasant one, it remained to be seen.

Varys giggled. "I suppose I cannot hide from you, my lord," he said.

"Everyone can hide, if they want to. I, being such a small man, know this best of all."

Tyrion hated the sound of Varys's giggle, yet he had to endure it once more. "I remember telling you that a small man can cast a great shadow," the eunuch said. "You did. But you did not use your size when you needed it most. Sansa Stark has fled, yet you remain here. And now you are accused of poisoning the king. Kingslayer and kinslayer."

Kinslaying was the most terrible crime in the eyes of gods and men, Tyrion knew. His brother was known as the Kingslayer, but he was supposed to be the Kingslaying-and-Kinslaying Imp. He would have laughed, but he was not very positive that he would get out of the situation with his ugly head still on his shoulders.

"I can hide very easily, but I have difficulty in running," he said. "My legs are barely made for walking. Besides, I am an innocent man; why should I run?"

"I thought," Varys said very seriously, "that, by now, you have learned that being innocent means nothing. Actually, if someone is innocent, they get into worse trouble than those who have things to be guilty for. Mace Tyrell is going to find witnesses to testify against you. His daughter could have tasted that poison as well; he wants to see some punishment - well, justice."

Tyrion felt the ghost of a smile appear on his face. Punishment and justice were two very dfferent concepts, yet often people used the word justice to hide the meaning of punishment. That was the way of the world.

"Lord Varys," Tyrion said, doing his best at fake surprise and offense, "are you saying that I should give something to people so that they will claim that I am innocent?"

Varys giggled yet again. "Lord Tyrell is already doing the same - against you. Secretly, to be sure, but-"

"-you have your little birds to inform you, "Tyrion finished the eunuch's sentence for him. It was not that hard to know what the spider would say.

"My little birds are everywhere," Varys said.

_Is that supposed to scare me, spider? I am in a cell; I have nothing to hide in here. Shae was my secret, but you already know it._ "Indeed they are," he merely agreed.

"I can help you, my lord. Give me names and rewards, and I shall give you witnesses."

"What can I offer them from my cell? A nice, dark corner? I think they will not like it much. Unless you approach beggars who sleep in the street, afraid of being raped or murdered or both. Only those people can help me now, Lord Varys. But I doubt they will speak up for me. I have saved them all, and yet they hate me. My lord father came up with an idea of taxing, but they call it the dwarf's penny. I rescued the city, abd yet they call me the demon monkey."

"You have highborn friends, my lord, I assure you. And there is the right price for every man. Mace Tyrell might think you are guilty, but he is not the only judge. And he will not be the only one with witnesses."

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